Our waiter’s name was Dekel. He had the most amazing eyelashes I’ve ever seen and was friends with the lady I was traveling with. While they caught up I ate a small piece of perfection in the form of a chocolate croissant. The morning sunlight reflecting off the creamy Jerusalem limestone was warm like the… Continue reading Dekel’s Eyelashes
Category: Travel
Bus Stations on the Equator
Restaurants near the city’s bus station were my favorite places to eat in Ecuador. Beans, rice, meat—usually chicken—an egg, a small juice. A checked tablecloth, a small TV on a high shelf, a soccer game. All that for a buck, buck and a half. Plus: a shy waitress surprised a gringo spoke Spanish and impromptu… Continue reading Bus Stations on the Equator
My Friend Bror
Bror moved from his native New Zealand to Bermuda wearing a three-piece suit and carrying only his bank cards. Bror teaches people to pronounce his name by saying, “It’s the letter B followed by a lion’s roar. Let’s practice it together: Bror.” Then he tells them bror means brother in Dutch, which I’ve not fact-checked. He… Continue reading My Friend Bror
Not Quite Canadian
I couldn’t figure it out. Was there something on my face? Was my fly open? I hadn’t made it halfway across campus from the bus stop and three friends had already stopped me to ask how I was doing. I was fine, as far as I knew. But I was starting to wonder. It was… Continue reading Not Quite Canadian
The Bus Driver
From my perch next to the window, I look down on the bus driver — a small, tidy white man with a bald spot and a collared shirt. Cradling a complicated novel on my lap, I tell myself that his small head surely houses small thoughts. The bus driver’s eyes roam the rearview mirror. He sees me… Continue reading The Bus Driver